Hundreds of years ago,
when pirates ruled the waves,
every day was a holiday
on Paradise Island.
The dodos dozed in the glorious sun,
munching on melons and mangos.
They drank coconuts and pineapple juice
until it dribbled down their chins.
When they felt more frisky,
they paddled in the sea,
or waddled up and down the beach
and tickled turtles’ tummies
But Desmond didn’t do what the other dodos did.
Desmond flapped his wonky wings.
He watched the horizon and worried.
“Desmond’s daft,” the other dodos laughed.
“He’s trying to fly away.
Doesn’t he know that dodos can’t fly?
Our bottoms are too big for that.”
“So what are wings for?” squawked Desmond crossly,
flapping his feeble wings.
“They’re for fanning our faces,” the dodos replied,
“for shading our eyes from the sun,
for scooping up sand
and waving at friends,
for wiping the juice from our chins.
Why fly?
when we can flop?
Be cool, little dodo.
Chill out!”
But Desmond flapped his wonky wings.
He watched the horizon and worried.
Then he jumped off rocks,
out of bushes
and trees,
He leapt off the top of
waterfalls
and cliffs
until …
one day his wonky wings woke up
and he had
higgledy-piggledy LIFT-OFF !
The other dodos stared in disbelief.
They goggled and giggled and gurgled.
But the more Desmond practised, the better he got
and soon he was gliding and swooping.
When the lazy dodos saw how much fun it was to fly,
they tried to copy Desmond.
But they got their wings in a terrible twist.
They squawked
and they flapped
and they flopped …
… until Desmond gave them flying lessons.
One day Desmond spotted a black and white flag
fluttering on the horizon.
These pirates were crazy with hunger and thirst.
One had started to eat his own pants.
They brandished a cutlass, a dagger or blunderbuss
and their bloodthirsty roars filled the air:
“Oh, give us some dodo!
Delicious roast dodo!
We’ll have dodo and chips for our tea!”
“Oh no, you won’t!”
Desmond squawked in reply.
“We’re not on the menu today.”
And his D.A.F.T.* dodos took to the skies * (Dodo Air Force in Training)
to dive-bomb the hungry invaders.
The pirates hopped and cursed and yelped
(how they hated dodo doo-doo!).
They blasted away with their cannons all day,
‘til the dodos decided to go-go.
Desmond found another island home –
one with fresh fruit, coconuts and crabs.
But still he flapped his wonky wings.
He watched the horizon and worried.
“If we want to survive,” he told all the rest,
“we need to get better at hiding.
If hunters can’t see us,
if we’re in disguise,
we’ll never be eaten for tea.”
So next time the pirates stopped for a snack …
they got crabby and had to eat nuts.
And Desmond and his dodo friends
lived long and happy lives.
They all drank coconuts and pineapple juice
until it dribbled down their chins.
But sometimes Desmond got the feeling
they were being watched –
that something large
was lurking
in the jungle
nearby.
He wiped his chin and wondered,
What if the dinosaurs didn’t die out?
What if they started hiding?
Maybe they were
really clever
just
like
ME …
—————-
Maybe that mound
in your school playground
is a sleeping brontosaurus …
and that weird TV aerial
up on your roof
is a roosting pterodactyl …
There could be
loads of dodos
in disguise
living in your garden …
But if you see one, keep it secret.
Don’t tell your pirate mates …
or you may get
dive-bombed
by dodo
or
dinosaur
doo-doo!
THE END
© Nick Walker 2012
WalkerWords 